Lyra's POV
Was I tempted to slam the door in his face? Maybe even hope it clipped him on the way? Absolutely.
But I didn’t.
“Yes,” I said flatly, setting my cup down.
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, his gaze sweeping the room before locking on me.
“I wanted to be sure you were comfortable.”
“I’m fine,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Thank you.”
He gave a brief nod. “Good. I also came to talk about tomorrow.”
I let out a tired sigh. “Now what?”
His smile—infuriating as always—spread across his face. “Your room is nice, but you’d look better in a cage,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I rolled my eyes. “What’s your deal? Are you bipolar or something? I should’ve guessed. Only a stalker who locks a girl up would be this messed in the head.
